Amnesty: The Final Play
by MoulinP
Summary: How does this eventually happen? Recent challenges seemed to string along a story which I just had to finish. As a little extra fun, I have included some quotes from episodes - see if you can spot them. There are 19, plus an iffy one.
1. Chapter 1 Pearls

Pearls

The Kid slapped Heyes' arm to jolt him awake.

"Ready, Heyes?"

Heyes looked round and repositioned his hat, jamming it down hard and tightening the stampede straps under his chin. He saw the train coming. It wouldn't be going at top speed but it sure looked like it was.

"Yep." He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks. "It's coming real fast, Kid," he muttered.

Jumping a train was always dangerous. They had to stay hidden until the engine had passed, and hope that nobody in the passenger carriages at the rear would spot them. If the driver or the conductor saw them, their free ride would be at an end before it had even started. The brakes would slam on hard and they would have to scurry to hide again with no guarantee that they could. Once the train had come to a stop, the crew would make a thorough search of all the carriages and boxcars just in case. When the train set off again the crew would be on alert. Jumpers had one chance to get on. Just the one chance. However, it came with risks. Risk of injury. Risk of death. These were real possibilities. The partners had seen accidents happen and those images stayed in the mind. Jumping a train was not something they undertook lightly.

The only reason they were doing it now was someone had recognised them in the last town. They had intended to take the train to Hardy City anyway but in the regular fashion. Yet before they could get to the train station, a chase had ensured. The posse was half-heartedly and had given up after a few miles. Not before Heyes and Curry had decided to change their mode of transportation. Coming across the railroad tracks, they had given up their horses, spurring them on in a different direction. On foot, they had kept to the scrub, ducked down and hid.

As the engine passed, Heyes and the Kid started to rise, with a certain amount of apprehension. With luck, a door of one of the boxcars might be open. Today the luck of reforming outlaws was holding; one was. They glanced at each other and started to run. Even running alongside a steaming train had its dangers. Often banked up to the tracks, the ground could slope and be uneven with loose chippings. Easy to lose ones footing and fall.

The trick was to pick your spot, noting the handholds and then just run to keep up with it. And stay away from the wheels!

Today the Kid went first, swinging up and forcing the door open wider with his feet as he swung from a grab handle. He threw in his saddlebags. Heyes saw, nodded and threw in his. Normally he was the one who was fleet of foot but today he lumbered. He swallowed hard. He had to keep going. He simply had to get on this train. The Kid reached his hand down as low as he dared, yelling at Heyes as the train picked up speed.

Heyes knew he was tiring. The cold he had the week before was making its presence felt again. He was running out of puff, legs and luck. With a final grit of teeth, his hand connected with the Kid's, the other slapped onto the floor of the boxcar. With the Kid levering him, he swung upwards but Heyes wasn't there yet. His feet pedalled ineffectually in mid-air. Sheer determination and the velocity of the train provided just enough momentum to slam him onto the floor of the boxcar.

Heyes quickly wriggled further in and collapsed face down with a loud groan. Behind him, the Kid swung in and slid the door shut. He crumpled against the door and sat there for a moment before crawling over to Heyes. He patted him on the shoulder.

"Kid, I'm getting too old for this!" Heyes gasped. With another loud groan, he rolled onto his back, where he lay taking large gulps of air. "I very nearly didn't make that." His arm covered his eyes. "I never wanna do that again. Promise me, Kid, we'll never do that again!"

The Kid patted his shoulder again, reassuringly. He squirmed up into a sitting position, leaning against a wooden crate. He still had breath to get back as well, although not nearly so much as Heyes. He looked at his spent partner. Right now Heyes was feeling every one of his thirty-one years.

"Yeah, Heyes, I promise." A brief relieved nod acknowledged his promise.

The Kid sat with one leg bent up, propping his elbow on his knee, rubbing his eyes. Taking his hat off, he gave his hair a stir.

The Kid knew it had been close. Far too close. He wondered what would he would have done if Heyes hadn't made it? Jump off himself? Getting off a moving train was almost as dangerous as getting on one. Risk injury? To find Heyes dead? Or badly injured? The Kid shook his head and gave his hair another stir. No Heyes was right. They weren't gonna do this again.

The train settled into its full speed, eating up the miles away from their last adventure.

The only sound for several long minutes, above the noise of the train, was heavy breathing. Then with a loud groan, Heyes struggled onto his hands and knees. He was exhausted. More exhausted then he felt he should be. He remained there for a moment before shuffling round to sit against the crate beside the Kid. He took his hat off, slapping it into his lap and ran his fingers through his hair.

He turned his head to look at the Kid.

"What time does this train get into Hardy City?" he asked, his breathing returning to normal at last.

"Dunno," the Kid, sighed, looking round. He had been dozing, lulled away by the rocking of the train.

"I thought you read the railroad timetable?" Heyes was indignant.

"Heyes, ya know I could never decipher those things!" the Kid protested. "Even when we were holding them up!"

Heyes grunted.

"Ya still got the package?"

"'Course I still got the package," Heyes snapped. He was still feeling out of sorts, from his cold and from the effort that jumping on the train had cost him. "I'm detecting a distinct lack of trust in me," he grumbled further, reaching into the inside pocket of his blue/grey coat.

"Oh I trust ya Heyes," the Kid reassured him. "I'm jus' worried that's all. If this delivery is as important as Lom says it is, then I don't want anything to go wrong. An' losing the package is right up there."

Heyes gave him a withering look as he pulled out a small leather pouch. "See?" he said, with a scowl.

The Kid motioned that he should open it.

Heyes moved round into a crouch, one knee up. With a slight smile, Heyes pulled at the string. "I like it when you worry, Kid. It means I can trust you to look after me better."

The Kid rolled his eyes.

"Like you did earlier. I don't think I woulda made it if you hadn't given me a hand."

Recognising sincerity in Heyes' voice, the Kid nodded.

"Ya welcome Heyes." Then when Heyes looked up added. "'Sides this going for amnesty lark wouldn't be nearly so much fun without ya!"

Heyes grinned and gave the Kid's upper arm a playful push. The Kid grinned back.

"Now let's see what we've got here." Heyes tipped the contents of the pouch into his other hand. "Oooh!" he cooed.

In his palm now sat four pearly pearls. The Kid puffed.

"How much are they worth?"

"Kid, in case you've forgotten we used to be a bank and train robbers, not jewel thieves." He ignored the look. "I reckon about $5 or $6 thousand. Each."

"EACH!" the Kid squeaked.

Heyes grinned both dimples. "Yep."

The Kid whistled. "Put 'em back. Put 'em back. 'Afore I get tempted to go to South America with 'em."

"Naw, you won't," Heyes dismissed, as he poured the pearls back into their pouch.

"I won't? Why not?" the Kid frowned.

"You don't speak South American," Heyes said, perfectly reasonably and ignored the look again.

"How come the Governor's trusting us with something that valuable. Perhaps they're false. Do they look false to you?"

Heyes sat back against the crate and considered. "Well perhaps it's a test. Lom did say it was important. Perhaps … ." He looked thoughtful. "Hoyt's ready to grant our amnesty and this is the final hoop we have to jump through." He smiled but he didn't looked convinced. "Besides … ." He pulled the string on the pouch tight. "Kid what makes you think they're false? These are for the Governor's daughter. For her twenty-first birthday present. You think he would give her false pearls?" Heyes shook his head. "Hoyt don't strike me as a man who would give his daughter false pearls."

The Kid frowned. "No I guess not. What will she do with 'em? Now I don't know much about jewellery but that don't look like enough to make a necklace to me."

Heyes shrugged. "Who knows Kid? Pouch secured again in his inside pocket, he sighed. "Understanding the female mind is one of the greatest mysteries of my life." He patted a flour sack into a more comfortable position and stretched out flat. He chuckled impishly. "Although there are a few female minds I wouldn't … ." He stopped and shook his head. "Nooo, don't go there Heyes," he muttered and closed his eyes. "Well I reckon it'll be dark in about an hour. The train won't stop again, 'till it gets to Hardy City, and we're leaving before then. So …I reckon we can get a few hours' sleep 'afore we have to jump off." He positioned his hat over his eyes. "Get some sleep Kid. We have plenty of time."

The exertion had made the pair more tired than they realised and both were soon sound asleep.

Notes:

Fine quality natural pearls are very rare jewels. Very few strands of natural pearls exist and those that do sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars. In 1917, Pierre Cartier purchased the 5th Avenue mansion, which is now the New York Headquarters for $100 and a double string of 128 natural pearls he had collected over years. They were valued then at a $1million. _(I used this valuation and scaled it back a little to give the value Heyes mentions.)_

The first cultured pearls, which are most pearls sold today, weren't produced commercially until 1916.


	2. Chapter 2 Ice

Ice

The train slowed as it climbed the incline. However, it wasn't just the incline that was making it move slowly. Cattle were milling around by the side and over the line. Ranch hands were desperately trying to drive the cows away before there was a serious accident. Not easy in the dark, even with a full moon like tonight or with spooked cattle.

Inside one of the boxcars were two somnambulant ex outlaws. Jumping on the train had been difficult. Heyes nearly didn't make it and only the Kid's help had avoided a disaster. The effort had taken a toll on both and they were dead to the world.

Waiting in the bushes by the side of the line was another unauthorised passenger. In fact, responsibility for stampeding the herd close to the line was theirs, providing the perfect cover under which to steal aboard the train. Today however, the train was shorter than usual and limited the possibility of a successful stowaway. A fact not considered by the prospective passenger.

Inside the makeshift dormitory car, the door sliding open disturbed the Kid. The gentle rocking of the train, however, kept him in the in-between world 'twixt sleep and wakefulness. Heyes meanwhile was oblivious to any external stimulus. When nothing further untoward intruded, the Kid smacked his lips before settling once more.

Then a louder sound did startle him awake and he automatically went for his gun. At the same time, he nudged Heyes with his foot. He jumped. "Waaa!"

"We're getting company," the Kid hissed.

The noise of the cattle was receding and they heard the door shut with a bang. Then came a much gentler sigh of relief. The Kid cocked his gun.

"Is someone there?" a voice asked. A young female voice.

The two ex-outlaws didn't move but the third occupant did, scrambling to her feet.

"Come on out! Show yourself!" she demanded.

Although they could barely see, Heyes and the Kid grinned at each other. Experience told them, the train was about to accelerate rapidly.

"Er ma'am if I were you …," the Kid started.

As he predicted, the train gathered pace again. A cry of surprise and a thud followed. Inside the boxcar, there was groans of pain, considerable unladylike swearing, and some ungentlemanly sniggering.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" the Kid asked in concern, the first to sober.

"Where are you? What are you doing in my boxcar?" came the angry reply.

"YOURboxcar?" Heyes and the Kid chorused.

"Excuse me ma'am but I believe we were here first," Heyes said.

"Oh so there's two of you is there? Great!" the voice said, followed by more muttering neither of them caught. "Just my luck I have to pick the most populated … Come on show yourselves! Haven't you got a match?"

"Er ma'am awful lot of things in here that don't take too kindly to matches if ya see what I mean," the Kid explained.

"How can I see what you mean if there's no light!"

"I reckon we're going fast enough Thaddeus. A little light wouldn't hurt if we're careful."

The Kid holstered his gun and struck a match. The resultant light revealed a young, slim woman sitting on her hip. She wore a divided black riding skirt, black boots, a tweed hacking jacket and a lilac blouse frilled at the neck and cuffs. She had light brown hair, piled up on top of her head in a large bun. At least that had been the intention. Several long clumps had escaped the confines of the bun. Over her body, she carried a bulging bag.

"Howdy, ma'am," the Kid grinned.

"Harrumph," she sniffed, casting critical eyes over her two fellow passengers. "Could have been worse I suppose."

Heyes was still leaning back on his elbows. He raised his eyebrows.

"Did she just …?"

Heyes looked up at the Kid for confirmation. Had they been judged and found wanting in some way?

"Yeah, Joshua. I think she just did."

"Should we do something about it? Heyes asked the Kid.

"I'm warning you! I know martial arts!" She raised her hands in front of her ready to defend or to attack.

"Marshall Arts? Is he the law in Hardy City these days?" the Kid frowned.

Heyes rolled his eyes. "Ma'am, I apologise for my friend here," Heyes smiled pleasantly and then turned to the Kid. "Thaddeus she's suggesting a fighting style from the East."

"How's that different from how we fight here? When I went to Philadelphia that one time, they fought same as we do. Still hurt."

"No. Further east than that." Heyes frowned in irritation.

"New York?"

"No! The Far East. China."

"If you two are quite finished with the geography lesson … You haven't answered my question. What are you doing in my car?"

The Kid lit another match from the embers of the first.

"Same as you I reckon ma'am," he said. "Just hitching a ride."

"You're going to Hardy City?" she asked.

"No ma'am. Just outside," Heyes explained. "We plan to take our leave of the train a mile or so before. The track bends quite sharply there and the train has to slow down to negotiate round."

"I know where you mean," she mused, and then looked up. "Hardy City is two hours away. How'd I know I'm gonna be safe in your company 'till then?" she demanded, thrusting out her chin challengingly.

Heyes and the Kid swopped glances.

"How'd we know we'll be safe with you ma'am?" Heyes queried with a frown. "After all, you know martial arts," he added, tongue in cheek.

The Kid dropped the match. "Owh!" It had burnt right down and onto his fingers. He had to stamp on it quickly before the straw on the floor caught alight.

"There's a lantern hanging on the hook over by the door," Heyes said, not attempting to get up.

When the Kid struck another match, he was looking at Heyes hard. Heyes just looked back innocently.

Sighing the Kid got up and went for the lantern. The woman drew back as he passed her, hands at the ready.

"You haven't answered my question," she said, eyeing the Kid warily.

"You haven't answered mine," Heyes shot back.

She tutted and shook her head in disbelief at his audacity.

The Kid returned and set the lantern on top of the crate behind Heyes.

"Now ain't that better. Now we can all see each other not answering questions," he grinned, lighting the lantern.

Heyes smiled up at the Kid. She was not so amused.

"Just don't try anything," she warned. "My hands are lethal weapons."

Heyes smacked his lips in amusement.

"If it makes you feel any better ma'am, neither my partner nor me are that desperate for female company right now," he said, trying to reassure her.

She looked doubtful. "Well don't say I didn't warn you 'cos I have"

"We're well and truly warned ma'am," the Kid nodded. He sat back down besides Heyes.

She settled back against the door, still regarding them warily.

Heyes and the Kid swopped glances and something passed between them.

"We've gotta long way to go. Why don't we introduce ourselves?" Heyes smiled. "I'm Joshua Smith. This here's my partner, Thaddeus Jones."

"Kat," she mumbled. "Kat Mallory."

"So er what brings a lady like yourself to go jumpin' onto a movin' train? In the middle of the night an' all?" the Kid asked.

Kat thrust out her chin. "That's my business," she said, haughtily.

Heyes and the Kid looked at each other. Okay they got it. She didn't want to talk. Heyes lay down again and put his hat over his eyes. The Kid took out his gun and inspected it. He would like to clean it but his saddlebags with his cleaning equipment in were over by her. Somehow, he didn't think she'd take too kindly if he moved. Yet the compulsion to idle away a few hours was too strong.

As soon as the Kid started to move, Kat was on alert.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Jus' going for my saddlebags, ma'am." He pointed behind her.

Heyes had raised his head and his hat. From there, what happened next appeared to happen in slow motion. Yet somehow, he still didn't have time to react. The Kid bent to reach his saddlebags. At the same time, Kat picked them up and swung them in his direction. The Kid didn't have time to swerve away and something bulky hit him in the mouth.

"Aagh!"

The Kid fell back, holding his mouth, knocking into the crate on which the lantern was sitting. Now Heyes did react. He grabbed for the lantern to prevent it toppling over and risking a conflagration, but his hand touched the glass.

"Aagh!"

Somehow, Heyes managed to right the lantern before they all met a fiery end.

Kat gave a squeak and covered her mouth with her hand. She stared at the two men in pain. That she'd caused. Then she decided that she was only culpable for one injury and that was clearly the more serious.

"Oh, Mr Jones, are you okay?" She crawled over to him. "Here let me see." She tried to remove his hand.

"No thank you ma'am," the Kid said, eyeing her suspiciously. With one hand, he fished out a bandana from his saddlebags and held it to his bleeding lip.

Not before Kat had seen the damage, she'd done and she winced. "That lip looks like it needs some ice."

"I could use some ice," Heyes grumbled, shaking his stinging fingers.

"Well we don't have any ice. It's jus' a little blood. It'll soon stop." I hope, the Kid's expression added.

Kat was still trying to help. The Kid was fending her off as well as staunching the blood from his lip.

"Ma'am, Ma'am! If ya don't mind I got this." She sat back on her heels and pressed her lips together contritely. The Kid waved her away. "Jus' go back over there."

Kat crawled back to where she'd been. "I really am very sorry."

"I'm good by the way," Heyes grimaced. When he didn't even receive a look, he groaned. The Kid and ladies. Again! He sighed. "Well that was certainly one way to break the ice," he said, philosophically. "Now how about you telling us why a young lady, such as yourself, is jumping onto trains in the middle of the night?"

Kat decided she now owed them an explanation. "I'm a journalist." She paused. "Well trying to be. I'm writing a series of pieces on out of the ordinary experiences. I think they should be as authentic as possible. Don't you think?" No reply. "So I'm researching the lives of hobos and I wanted to experience jumping onto trains. 'Cos that's what they do. I'm told."

Heyes pursed his lips and nodded. "Mmmm." He looked over at the Kid. "You can't beat authentic experiences. Can you Mr Jones?"

The Kid ignored him and the reference to Annabelle. "Seems a little risky to me ma'am," the Kid said, bandana still pressed to his lip. "You were lucky enough to run into us on this occasion. There's a lot of bad people who ride the rails."

"I think she'll be alright. She knows martial arts y'know," Heyes informed him.

Kat ignored Heyes and addressed the Kid. "I'm beginning to realise that, Mr Jones," Kat said. "Women are breaking into journalism all over the world and I want to be one of them. I don't want to spend my life covering the arts, domestic science and fashion!" She spat the last word with contempt. "I want to write interesting and thought provoking pieces but I can't do that unless I've experienced some of these things for myself. I'd never to be taken seriously."

Heyes nodded. He was all for women having the chance to do things traditionally only men did but he wasn't too sure he liked the risks they would take to do them. He was working up to telling her that when she spoke again.

"So now I've told you why I'M here. Why are YOU here? Neither of you look like hobos."

"Oh, that's easy. We're not." Heyes pulled himself up to set his back against the crate that held the lantern, and stretched his legs out in front him, crossed at the ankle. "Exactly."

The Kid gave a low groan. He could sense a story coming on. He wasn't disappointed.

"See Thaddeus here is being married next week. To the mayor's daughter as it happens. Lovely girl. We're on our way back from Medicine Bow, where we were picking up our church suits for the wedding. They cost a little more than we figured and we didn't have the money for a train back."

Kat looked from one to the other. To Heyes smiling pleasantly and to the Kid, with his eyes closed, shaking his head slightly.

"You're getting married? Next week?"

It was Heyes, who answered before the Kid could think of a reply.

"Yes ma'am. Although … ." He winced at the Kid. "Might have to be delayed for a day or two now. Until he heals up." He put a hand to his mouth, pulled a face and shook his head. "Photographs."

Kat whimpered. "Oh, Mr Jones I'm so sorry."

The Kid nodded, graciously. At the same time, he gave Heyes a disgusted look.

Kat narrowed her eyes.

"If you were going to pick up your church suits, where are they?"

Heyes seemed unfazed by the question. "In our saddlebags of course. They don't look that commodious but I can assure you they are. Quite magical you might say, space wise. I reckon it musta been one of Thaddeus shoes that socked him in the mouth." He smiled pleasantly and looked innocent.

The Kid reminded of his injury, winced. Magic saddlebags? He'd heard it all now.

Kat looked from one to the other again. "Mr Smith," she began, checking their expressions again. "I think … you're pulling my leg."

Heyes gave her a dazzling smile. "Oh I can see not much gets passed you, Miss Mallory. Intuition like that will make you a fine journalist."

Kat seemed pleased at the compliment. "So you're not really getting married next week?" She was relieved and directed her question at the Kid.

"Oh no that parts true. We were only MEASURED for our church suits. They're being delivered next week," Heyes informed her. "So what was it that …? Oh I know. Musta been one of Thaddeus' dirty socks. They can harden to small rocks if left too long."

"Joshua," the Kid sighed, with well-worn weariness. When Heyes looked over, he added. "Shut up."

Heyes smirked and held up his hand in surrender.

"So if you were only being MEASURED for your church suits, you wouldn't have to pay for them until they were ready so … ." Kat looked meaningfully at Heyes to explain why they still had a lack of funds.

"Er … ."

The Kid looked over with interest. How WAS Heyes going to explain that one? He waited and waited. Then he grinned, realisation dawning. Whoops, was the dark haired, silver-tongued ex outlaw ACTUALLY struggling?

"Gambling," the Kid said, deciding it was down to him to help out. "Yes ma'am. See Joshua here thought he had a sure-fire double our money hand. In fact he didn't. So here we are riding the rails. Like hobos." He paused. "Gentleman hobos of course."

"What Thaddeus means is that I have a wife and little baby boy waiting for me at home. And Thaddeus' … ." Heyes chewed his lip. "Fiancée is from a god-fearing family and neither would understand … ."

"Joshua's shameful slip-up," the Kid interrupted, helping out again. He shook his head at the calamity of it. "So all things considered, ma'am, this is the best way." He deliberately ignored the daggers he knew were coming his way.

Kat nodded. "I understand." Kat took out a pencil and notepad from her bag. "Mr Smith, you said the two of you were planning to get off the train BEFORE it gets to Hardy City."

"Yes ma'am."

"Would you mind telling me how you propose to do that?" She opened the notepad and prepared to take notes.

Heyes glanced over at the Kid and licked his lips. After all, HE was doing their talking for them now. Nothing was forthcoming and he looked back at Kat.

"Well ma'am, we're gonna have to jump off."

"And just how does one do that?"

Heyes swallowed hard. After his experience getting on, he had been trying hard not to think about getting off until it was time to do so.

"With a great deal of care."

"The secret is to tuck and roll ma'am," the Kid said.

"Tuck and roll?"


	3. Chapter 3 Modes of transport

Modes of Transport

The train had slowly significantly and they could hear and feel the engine struggle on its laborious climb. The time had come to jump off. Kat had decided that rather than ride the train into Hardy City and risk discovery, she would jump off with her fellow passengers. Her aunt owned a ranch a little way from the point the two men were proposing to jump.

The Kid went first. Kat watched him closely. Even though she knew what would happen she still gave a small scream when he stepped out into space, quickly silenced by a hand to her mouth. With Heyes' hand on her arm, she leant out a little to see the Kid come to rest. She was relieved to see him struggle into a sitting position and wave to indicate he was unharmed.

"Okay?" Heyes queried.

Kat looked round at him. The wind from the open door tore at her hair, throwing locks over her face. She brushed them away.

"Yes I can do this," she said, determinedly.

"Good girl. Now come and stand behind this yellow line." He pulled her back a foot. She looked down in confusion.

"There isn't a yellow line."

"Just pretend there is and stand behind it. Now pick your spot. Look for somewhere clear." He pointed in the direction they were headed. The train had started to negotiate a wide uphill curve so they could see easily the terrain in front. To the side of the tracks, the ground sloped away. Dotted here and there were shrubs and trees. "Got one?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Good now remember, tuck and roll and don't bite your tongue."

She nodded and then he pushed. "Go!"

Kat found herself screaming in mid-air. Her arms and legs whirling in panic, the ground hurtling towards her. Then she remembered the mantra. Tuck and roll. Tuck and roll, she recited. From the corner of her eye, she saw a pair of saddlebags fly followed by a blue/grey blur. Then her attention focused on hitting the ground. She landed to tuck and roll, tuck and roll blaring in her head.

The Kid winced as he ran up. Kat had hit the ground hard, rolling several times head over heels rather than to the side, as she should. She finally come to rest backside pointing down the slope, her legs up over her head, next week's washing on full display. Her legs flopped down and she lay panting staring up at the sky.

"Okay ma'am?"

"Yes," she gasped.

If the Kid expected her to be a crying wreak, he was disappointed. Accepting his hand to sit up, she looked at him wide eyed.

"That was so exciting! To think I'll probably never do that again," she laughed.

"Er yeah," the Kid said, doubtfully. "Come on. Let's go see how Joshua is." He pulled her to her feet. She took a moment to brush herself down before taking his hand. They walked along hand in hand towards Heyes, the Kid snatching up that man's saddlebags on the way.

Heyes had made a fundamental mistake. He had hesitated before jumping. Although he had picked his spot, it had moved by the time he arrived. He'd tucked and rolled as prescribed but the slope was much steeper where he'd landed. It had turned his roll into an out of control slither of arms and legs. He'd only come to rest when a delicate part of his anatomy and hip slammed against an unaccounted for tree.

When the Kid and Kat caught up, Heyes was groaning loudly.

"Joshua, are you okay?" the Kid asked in concern.

"Yeah, think so," came the gasped reply, followed by another anguished groan.

The Kid leaned over and pulled Heyes gently onto his back. Heyes looked up at him wide-eyed from under his crumpled hat. "Thaddeus you promised me we'd never do that again," he squeaked, accusingly.

"Nope. I promised we'd never jump ON a train again." The Kid grinned.

"Yeah well I kinda figured jumping OFF was a given!" Heyes gave a groaned laugh.

"C'mon up y'get." The Kid grabbed for Heyes' hand and hauled him to his feet, where he remained doubled up, a comforting hand protecting his hurting parts. "You're all right," the Kid informed him brushing dust not too gently from Heyes' shoulders.

With a loud grunt, Heyes attempted to straighten. He managed it by leaning against the out of position tree. "Ye-ah I might be but I doubt if my progeny will be," he gasped. In later years, the Kid would take great delight in reminding Heyes of this incident when he had cause to complain about his daughter and elder son.

"Sheez! That hurt." Heyes bent over double once more, remained there for a moment before straightening up again, with support from what he could swear was now a guilty looking tree.

"C'mon let's go," the Kid urged, moving off in the direction of Hardy City.

"Are you alright, Mr Smith?" Kat asked, in concern.

Heyes hitting his hat against the tree served two purposes. The first was punishment for being there, which was immensely satisfying, and secondly, it helped with expunging some of the dust from his hat. He sighed regretfully as he looked at it, attempting to mould it back into some recognisable shape. Giving up, he finger combed his hair back before slapping the sartorial disaster on his head and motioned for Kat to follow the Kid.

"I'll do," he nodded and started to walk with a noticeable limp.

It was a while before he could make more than a word in conversation. The longer they walked, the easier his stride became.

"So how did you find your first authentic experience of jumping from a moving train?"

Kat grinned at him. "It was so exhilarating. I've never done anything so thrilling before."

Heyes grunted. "It's dangerous Kat. You don't wanna make a habit of it."

"No I won't. But I've done it and I can write with authority now. Which is what I wanted."

"Glad we could help with investigative journalism." Then a though struck him. "You won't mention our names will you?" His voice had taken on a sudden hard note. The last thing he wanted was Heyes and Curry mentioned in close proximity to Smith and Jones.

Kat smiled. "No I'll just refer to you as gentleman hobos."

Heyes grinned. "Good. I don't think his betrothed would understand." He nodded at the Kid.

"Your secret is safe with me," she assured him, linking her arm through his.

ASJASJASJASJ

The time soon came for them to part. With a short farewell, Kat was walking down the slope to the yard of her aunt's ranch.

"She was a really likeable young lady," the Kid said, wistfully as they watched Kat walking away.

"Yes in a lethal sorta way," Heyes said, slapping the Kid on the shoulder to get him moving again.

The Kid frowned the question at Heyes.

"She knows marital arts, y'know," Heyes informed him, straight faced.

The Kid rolled his eyes and started moving.

"You don't think we shoulda gone with her?"

Heyes looked back. "No I somehow think Slugger Mallory can take care of herself."

"I dunno Heyes. Don't seem too gentlemanly to me." The Kid stopped and looked back. "We coulda gone with her and they might have sold us a couple of horses," he mused. "Rented us a couple mebbe."

Heyes shook his head. "Don't think I could sit a horse right now Kid," he winced at the thought.

"Still hurt huh?"

"A little tender," came the reluctant answer, as he trudged on.

"Mebbe they coulda given us a lift inta town on a buggy?"

Heyes stopped and turned back. "Kid no. You heard what Lom said. We're supposed to be incognito. Now come on. It's not that far into Hardy City. If we get a shift on, we'll be there in time for supper. I'll buy you a roast dinner with all the trimmings. How's that?"

The Kid nodded and the thought of food spurred him on. He trudged passed Heyes, who had waited to make sure he was moving. Heyes fell into step beside him.

"I suppose ya still got the package," the Kid said, after a while.

"Oh not this again! You're gonna drive me crazy d'you know that!"

"Well have ya? Simple enough question."

Heyes gave a disgusted look, stopped and unbuttoned his coat. His hand went to the top inside pocket, where he'd placed the pouch before. He froze and his face took on a horrified expression."

"What? No!" the Kid wailed.

Heyes frantically began patting and searching all his pockets.

"Ya can'ta lost 'em Heyes. Ya always telling me that coat has poacher's pockets. Whatever that means."

"It does. I'm telling you Kid, I've got 'em. I jus' can't put my hand … ." Heyes looked back and started in the direction they'd come from. "I had 'em on the train. You know I did."

The Kid groaned, resigned to help Heyes look. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground as he retraced his steps, grumbling about pearls, and walkin' and poacher's pockets as he went. He came to a stop when he realised Heyes had pulled up.

Heyes stood, grinning widely and holding up the velvet pouch.

"So you had 'em all the time? You were jus' funning me?"

"No Kid … well what I mean is … yes I did have 'em but …," Heyes spluttered.

The Kid threw up his hands and marched quickly away.

"They slipped down inside the lining. Musta happened when I landed," Heyes said in justification, starting to run after him but winced and slowed. "I didn't do it on purpose!" He sounded desperate.

The Kid turned, his face menacing. "Heyes I swear one of these days, I'm gonna flatten ya!"

Heyes frowned. "You're gonna WHAT?"

"Flatten ya!"

"Now what sorta talks that? There's no call … ." Heyes raised his hands in surrender and took a step back. "Alright, alright, I WAS having a joke with you," he admitted.

Heyes looked so contrite the Kid was doubtful. Giving him the look, the Kid started again in the direction of Hardy City. "Let's get this over with. These boots aren't made for walking. Yet here I am, walking in 'em," he groused. "Again."

"Oh hush up. Anyone would think you were the only one," Heyes grumbled, as he followed slowly. "You're not nearly as bad off as I am. An old man, grippe ridden, manhood damaged, hand burnt. Y'know … ."

"Will you stop bellyaching and come on!"

"Kid, it's not my belly that aches … oops!"

The Kid had turned and was now in Heyes' face. "Button it will ya. I'm in no mood."

Heyes nodded and followed quietly behind.

"An' by the way if ya tell that story of me marrying the mayor's daughter one more time … ."

"What?" Heyes stood hands on hips and looking astonished. "Don't you like the mayor's daughter?"

"Heyes I don't KNOW the mayor's daughter!"

"Kid I just want the best for you y'know that." Heyes eyes focussed on the fist in front of his nose. "Okay buttoned." A movement behind the Kid diverted his attention. He smiled slowly. Then they both heard it, the rhythmic clip clop of a horse and the whoosh of a buckboard.

"Kid, d'you ever think about changing our mode of transport?"

"Funny that thought should occur to you as well. C'mon unless you don't think you can manage a ride in a buggy?"

"Oh, I'll manage, Kid. We'd better be Rembacker and Hotchkiss if he asks!" When the Kid looked the question. "Incognito remember?"

A moment later, they were running onto the road in front of the small buckboard, driven by a middle-aged man. He pulled up sharply to avoid running them over.

Heyes grinned and raised his hand.

"Howdy!"

"Howdy, what can I do for you … gentleman?" the man asked suspiciously, his hand straying to the rifle on the floor of the buckboard.

"Ah, we're stranded out here in the middle of no-where. Could we trouble you for a ride into Hardy City? That is where you're going isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's where I'm going. How d'ya come to be stranded out here?"

"Horse thieves," Heyes said with aplomb.

"Horse thieves! I ain't heard of no horse thieves round here."

Heyes gave a deep sigh. "Well you have now."

"There's a ranch 'bout half mile back. You might get some horses there," the man suggested.

Heyes and Curry swopped glances.

"Yes sir but that's half a mile an' these boots aren't made for walkin'. No guarantee they'd sell us some an' then we'd havta walk back here again … ," the Kid began.

"And as you're going to Hardy City, which is where we're going … ," Heyes added.

The man stroked his chin. He was still doubtful but the two men looked innocent enough, despite the tied down guns.

"Waal, okay. Hop on the back. Jus' leave the hardware with me."

ASJASJASJASJ

Kid Curry pushed into the saloon and a familiar voice greeted him.

"Well its about time you got here!"

Looking round, Lom was coming towards him.

"Lom!" the Kid grinned. "What are you doing here?"

The two men shook hands briefly.

"Looking for you. How'd it go? And where's Smith?"

"Joshua is over at the hotel, taking a nap." Having arrived in time for supper, Heyes had bought two roast dinners as promised. While the Kid had wolfed his down, Heyes had picked at his. Afterwards, the Kid had suggested the saloon, Heyes had declined saying something he'd eaten wasn't agreeing with him and he'd head on back to their room. The Kid wasn't ready for bed so had come to the saloon alone. "Buy you a beer and I'll tell ya all about our trip."

Lom grunted. "I've got one. Quiet table over there. You can tell me all, it should be interesting."

The Kid bought his beer and joined Lom at the table indicated.

"I heard you had some trouble leaving Medicine Bow. That's why I'm here. Figured you'd put in an appearance right about here."

The Kid nodded. "Yeah, we were spotted. Had to jump a train."

"Still got the package?"

"Heyes has it back at the hotel."

Lom nodded. "Good."

"So who's upholding the law in Porterville, while you're here?"

Lom scowled. "Harker," he growled.

"He did a good job that time we were there," the Kid said, lifting his mug to his lips to hide his smile.

"Good job? Huh! The bank was robbed! No. The bank was blown to smithereens! Could hear the explosion five miles away. All the windows, in all the buildings busted round the square. Money floating down all over like confetti. And I'm still not sure that you and Heyes didn't have anything to do with it!"

"Lom, it was those transients you know that." The Kid put on his best hurt face.

Lom grunted doubtfully. "Did you know 'em?"

Under the table, the Kid crossed his fingers. "They didn't give their names. On account of them being transients."

Lom grunted again. "Well its all cleared up now. Kept finding dollar bills in rose bushes for weeks but we got most of the money back eventually. Bank's rebuilt strong as the Denver Mint."

"Miss Porter back?" the Kid asked quickly. Too quickly and he had to cover up. "It was a terrible experience for her."

"No, after the explosion, she went to San Francisco where her parents were vacationing. She stayed when her father decided to retire. There's a new manager in the bank now. Not to mention a brand new, fool proof safe." Lom tapped the Kid's arm. "Be sure to let Heyes know that."

The Kid grinned. "Lom we're honest law abiding citizens these days. Our only concern is that folk's money is held in a safe and secure place."

Lom still looked doubtful but decided to let it go. He drained his glass.

"Well now I know you're here, I can go to my bed. You staying at the hotel?"

The Kid nodded. "Room number nineteen."

Lom scrapped his chair back. "Okay I'll come and get the package from you at seven tomorrow."

"Before breakfast?" The Kid looked up in astonishment.

"Yeah, before breakfast. My train back to Porterville leaves at seven thirty. Can't leave Harker on his own for another day. Who knows WHAT might happen!" With a growl and a nod, he walked away.

ASJASJASJASJ

Heyes and the Kid watched as Lom tipped out the pouch, counted the pearls and nodded.

"Well done. All looks in order."

"Was this a test Lom?" Heyes asked, as Lom slid the pearls back into their pouch.

"Huh?"

"A test. To see if we're law abiding and trustworthy enough to give an amnesty to." He grinned.

Lom tightened the string around the top of the pouch slowly. He looked at Heyes. What he saw concerned him. When had Heyes started spotting such bushy and long side-whiskers and allowing his hair to grow that long? He was usually quite fastidious about his toilet. When had that man started to look so weary and strained? And why was he leaning so heavily against the foot rail of the bed? The closer Lom looked he could see desperation in his eyes. That was something Lom had never seen in Heyes before. Heyes was always the pragmatist. Ever the optimist. Glancing at the Kid, he saw him through fresh eyes as well. He'd put on weight and there was a hounded look about his mien. Neither looked like the two fresh faced young men who had come to see him in hope and trepidation nearly two years before. Lom suddenly realised quite how hard the quest for amnesty had become on these boys. Now he could see it quite clearly. The thought that he was partially responsible didn't sit too comfortable with him. He resolved to do more.

"I'll see what I can do Heyes," he said, softly, touching his arm reassuringly. "Don't give up. Not now."

Heyes licked his lips and nodded, resigned to that answer. The fact that he didn't protest or say something snarky spoke volumes.

"Here." Lom held out some folded dollar bills. Heyes was reluctant to take them. They'd already had payment for the delivery. He knew this was from Lom himself. Lom insisted until Heyes sighed and tucked them away in the breast pocket of his shirt. He gave a nod of thanks.

Lom turned away and nodded for the Kid to join him outside.

"Me?" The Kid thumbed at his chest in surprise. The Kid glanced at Heyes, who frowned at this development and followed Lom outside.

When the door had closed, the Kid turned to Lom.

"What's up?"

Lom hesitated. "You'd best get him to see a doctor. I think jumping from the train yesterday hurt him more than he's letting on. Is that how you got that split lip?"

The Kid looked at the door in alarm. Guilt that he hadn't noticed that Heyes was in real pain. Embarrassment that someone else had spotted it and he hadn't.

"Er no that was something else," he frowned, still pondering on how he could have missed Heyes' condition.

"I know this hasn't been easy on either of you. I'm sorry its taking so long. I genuinely believe you two deserve a second chance and I'll be telling the Governor that. In the strongest possible way. Look after yourself. And him." He nodded to the room. "I'll be in touch real soon. I promise."

Lom gave the Kid's shoulder a shake and walked away.

"Hope the Governor's daughter likes her pearls," the Kid called.

Lom paused and looked back, grappling with himself.

"The Governor doesn't have a daughter," he mumbled, with a guilty look, before walking quickly away.


	4. Chapter 4 Amnesty: Is it Worth it?

Amnesty: Is it worth it?

"When the Kid returned to the hotel room, he found Heyes angrily stuffing his saddlebags.

"Come on Kid. Let's hurry up and get outta here," he snapped.

"Now hold on Heyes. Let's not be too hasty."

"Why? There's nothing to hang around for here is there?" His voice was hard. He fumbled to buckle the flap, his fingers still sore from the train, not co-operating fully. "Aaah!" He punched the side of the saddlebag in frustration.

"Heyes, slow down will ya?" The Kid put his hands on Heyes' shoulders and gave him a shake. "What is it?"

Heyes shrugged off the Kid's hands. "I just wanna get outta here. Get lost somewhere far away." He tried again with the buckle and this time succeeded. He hefted the saddlebags onto his shoulder and snatched up his hat. By the time, it was on his head, he was moving towards the door.

Only to find his exit blocked. Kid Curry stood in front of the door with arms folded.

"Nope. You ain't going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

"Kid. Get outta my way."

"Nope."

"How ya gonna stop me?"

The Kid looked at his partner's pale face. Now that he was close and looking properly, he could see the sunken pain filled eyes and the sheen on his skin. The Kid smiled in sympathy.

"Easily by the looks of ya," he said, softly.

Heyes swallowed hard and put his head down, found out. He gave a huge sigh and his saddlebags slid from his shoulder.

"I don't know as I can do this much longer, Kid," he breathed.

The Kid allowed him to turn away and throw his saddlebags irritably onto the bed. He stood hands on hips, shaking his head.

"Not knowing about this dang amnesty is really getting to me."

The Kid patted him on the shoulder. "I know Heyes. It is me too. Jus' that I'm not in pain like you." He sat on the nearest bed and looked at his partner's stiff back. "Am I?"

Heyes looked round slowly. "What d'ya mean?"

"Jumping off the train yesterday really hurt didn't it?"

Heyes twitched his head. "Yeah well it's a delicate part of the body," he ground out. "Not used to that kinda treatment." His tongue explored his mouth in embarrassment.

"You should see a doctor."

"NO!" Heyes spun round quickly in alarm. From a split second, he winced before setting his features in determination.

"There's one in town. I saw the sign when we came in yesterday," the Kid said, helpfully.

"I don't need a doctor." Then seeing he needed to give the Kid more, added. "I'm just a little stiff is all. I'll ease up when we get moving." Heyes rolled his shoulders in emphasis.

"Okay. How d'ya wanna leave town? We can't get the train back through Medicine Bow. That's asking for trouble. The train to Porterville and Cheyenne just left and there won't be another 'til Friday. Stage south don't leave 'til Thursday, two days time and there ain't one that goes north." He let that sink in. "Seems to me the only way outta this town, if ya don't wanna walk, is to get on a horse."

Heyes blanched.

"So while we're waitin' let's go see the doc." The Kid got up and put on his hat, triumphantly. "C'mon."

Heyes chewed his bottom lip furiously but held his ground.

"C'MON"

"It's kinda embarrassing," Heyes mumbled, quietly.

"I know and I guess I'd feel the same if'n it was me," the Kid admitted. "But you'd be saying the same thing to me. Let's get ya checked out, huh? I promise I won't mention it to anyone. It's just between you and me." The Kid could see Heyes was wavering. "Supposin' you've done some serious damage? And it coulda been fixed if a doctor looked at it in time? What's ten minutes of embarrassment worth to ya then, huh?"

Heyes glowered from under his hat. "When did you get so wise?" he snarked.

"Been around you too long I guess," the Kid shrugged, nonchalantly, hands in pants pockets.

They glared at each for a long moment, until finally Heyes gave a long exasperated sigh.

"Okay, let's get this over with then."

The Kid grinned and ushered Heyes out before he could change his mind.

ASJASJASJASJ

In the doctor's surgery, they found Nurse Chappell behind the reception desk.

"Doctor Fraser has a patient right now. If you'd like to take a seat, Mr Smith."

"No matter, Ma'am, we won't trouble him." Heyes smiled and tipped his hat.

The Kid pulled Heyes back as he was about to start for the door, and smiled at the nurse. He held on tight to Heyes' arm and sidestepped them to the chairs.

"Thank you Ma'am. We'll be right over here. SIT!" The last uttered through gritted teeth.

Heyes perched on the edge of the chair, rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, put his head down and closed his eyes. He let out a long shuddering breath.

"Can I ask what the problem is?"

Heyes groaned and shook his head.

"Um, it's a private matter, Ma'am," the Kid said, his hand firmly on Heyes' arm in case of flight. "No disrespect."

"Very well. I'm sure Dr Fraser won't be too long."

A moment later, the consulting room door opened and Dr Fraser called her in. As soon as the door closed, Heyes was on his feet.

"Where are you going?" the Kid demanded.

"Nowhere," Heyes snapped, starting to pace. "Sitting is uncomfortable that's all."

The Kid accepted the explanation. However, he kept his eyes on Heyes as he paced up and down.

"You don't have to keep watching me?" Heyes growled, after the third time he noticed the Kid's eyes on him. "I'm not gonna run off!"

"Can ya run?" the Kid queried.

"Gah!" Heyes spun round and paced back the other way.

It was a good ten minutes before the door opened again. A woman, holding the hand firmly of a boy of about six came out.

"Thank you Doctor Fraser, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been able to get that off," the woman said, accepting the saucepan. "Davey say thank you to Dr Fraser."

"Thank you Dr Fraser," the boy sang.

"You're welcome, Davey."

As the woman dragged the boy away, Nurse Chappell indicated the next patient.

"What no saucepan to unstick? Or kitchen utensil lodged in an inappropriate place?" Dr Fraser said, faintly amused. "Removing things from an ear or nose is my speciality," he added, proudly.

"Sorry to disappoint," Heyes scowled. "I could come back, Doc. Honestly if you have somewhere more important … ."

"Nonsense, come in Mr Smith." He held the door opened and Heyes gritted his teeth.

"Want me to come in with ya, Joshua?" the Kid asked innocently.

The look Heyes gave him a look, which should have curdled his blood. Instead, as the door closed the Kid chuckled to himself.

ASJASJASJASJ

After twenty minutes, a red faced and rather sheepishly looking Heyes emerged. He took a cautious seat beside the Kid as Doctor Fraser spoke quietly with Nurse Chappell.

"Well what did he say?"

"Said I'd bruised my pelvic bone and surrounding area. He's gonna give me some embrocation that'll help dull the pain. The bruising should settle down in a few days."

The Kid looked horrified. "You're not expecting me to … ."

"NOO! I can manage." Heyes swallowed. "Except I won't be sitting a horse for a while. We'll take the stage south in two days."

"Think ya'll be okay to do that by then?"

Heyes licked his lips. "Yes," he said, though sounded unsure.

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid went to get breakfast. Heyes clutching his bottle of embrocation, returned to the hotel room. An hour later, when the Kid had finished his breakfast, he found Heyes in bed sound asleep. A smell of medication hung in the air.

The Kid left Heyes to sleep. He went downstairs and secured their room for two more nights, informing the desk clerk that his partner was unwell and shouldn't be disturbed. Then he went off to explore the town.

The Kid returned early afternoon. Heyes was just wakening and was blinking up at the ceiling feeling a little disorientated.

"Hey, how ya feeling?"

"Dunno yet," Heyes said, quietly. "What time is it?"

"Two. Think you've slept a good six hours."

"Probably needed it. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Wanna sit up? I figured ya might be hungry so I brought ya a sandwich and coffee."

Heyes gave him a lopsided grin. "Think you're confusing me with you, Kid." Then he nodded. "Thanks. Yes, you're right. I should eat," he said, gingerly moving to sit up.

The Kid positioned pillows behind him and Heyes relaxed back against them.

"Okay?"

"Mebbe. Is that a newspaper?" He looked eager.

"Yes. Ya can have it AFTER you've eaten."

Heyes pushed his bottom lip into a petulant thrust, rolled his eyes and sighed as he accepted the packet containing the sandwich onto his lap, a coffee cup placed on the nightstand. He unpacked the sandwich reluctantly. He wasn't really hungry but he knew the Kid would get at him if he didn't try and eat.

The Kid settled in an armchair and shook out the newspaper. He left Heyes to eat so he was surprised when Heyes spoke.

"Kid, do you think we should carry on trying for amnesty?"

The Kid dropped the newspaper and frowned. "Yeah, course. Don't you?"

Heyes took a bite of his sandwich to avoid having to answer.

The Kid leaned forward. "Ya not serious 'bout giving up? Not after all this time. We're doing so well."

"Are we?"

"Lom is going to talk to the Governor," the Kid offered, hopefully.

"He's always talking to the dang Governor!" Heyes spat. "It's not getting us anywhere is it?" He looked away, and took another bite of his sandwich.

"For what it's worth, I think he's gonna try harder this time."

"Yeah?" Heyes said with sarcasm. Then he looked at the Kid sharply. "Why? What did he say when he took you outside?"

"He was worried about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah you."

"There's no cause for him to be worrying 'bout me, Kid."

The Kid raised his eyebrows. "Well he was right to. Look at ya." Heyes harrumphed. "Mebbe he's more worried 'bout what ya gonna do?" He paused. "And so am I."

"Why?" Heyes demanded.

"'Cos you were talking … defeatist talk earlier."

"I was in pain! Can't a body get a little bit cranky if they're in PAIN?"

"Yep I guess so but it was more'n that wasn't it? And it still is." The Kid licked his lips, knowing Heyes was on a knife edge. "It'll take time, Heyes. Lom told us that."

"Lom said it would take a year. It's been two." Heyes paused. "Kid, the Governor's term is up at the end of this year. Then there'll be a new Governor and there's no guarantee a new one will honour the promise. He may even set the clock back. Or cancel the amnesty altogether."

The Kid nodded. "Yeah, that is a possibility," he conceded. "What d'ya wanna do?"

Heyes shook his head. "Dunno." He set aside the sandwich. The Kid noticed only two bites missing. Heyes reached for the coffee and took a sip. "I don't know, Kid. I really don't know."

The Kid leant forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Heyes we can't give up now. We've come too far."

Heyes licked his lips.

The room was silent as each contemplated the consequences of this discussion.

"What would we do? IF we gave up, an' I'm not saying we should. I jus' wanna know if ya have a plan," the Kid, said.

"We were successful at what we USED to do."

"No Heyes, I ain't going back to robbing. I'm passed all that now."

Heyes gave me a lopsided grin. "Good."

The Kid sighed in relief. "I thought for a moment there … ."

"No." Heyes shook his head. "I've thought long and hard 'bout what we did. It was wrong and I regret it more than I can say. We're older now and wiser." He shook his head again. "No Kid that life is not for us anymore."

"Then what? What do we do?"

"I just wanna GO somewhere. I want to stop looking over my shoulder."

"Got anywhere in mind?"

"Nope." He looked across at the Kid. He was feeling a little better now his thoughts were off his chest and shared. "You said the stage goes south. What's south?"

"Colorado," the Kid grinned.

"Big place, Kid," Heyes returned his grin, albeit weakly. "I wanna try something different."

"What?"

"Depends what's south. Can you get us a map later?"

"Sure."


	5. Chapter 5 Smoking Gun

Smoking Gun

"Ah, Sheriff Trevors come in. Do take a seat," Governor John Wesley Hoyt said, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"Governor, thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Lom said, quickly taking the chair offered.

"You were lucky I had a gap."

Governor Hoyt leaned on the desk and wrung his hands. "I think I can guess why you're here, Sheriff. Heyes and Curry correct?"

"Yes sir." Lom reached into his pocket and pulled out the pouch. "They did what you asked." He put the pouch onto the desk. He wasn't surprised when Governor Hoyt swept it quickly into his desk drawer. "They keep doing things for you sir. Or for friends of yours," he started slowly. "How much longer?"

"I know they do," Hoyt sighed, shrugged and spread his hands. "How much longer? What can I tell you? It's politically …. ."

"You keep telling ME this and I keep telling THEM that," Lom interrupted, leaning forward in his chair. "Governor, there's only so many times you can string 'em along with that excuse."

"Are you threatening me, Trevors?" Hoyt barked.

Lom sat back. "No sir, I'm very concerned for their welfare that's all." His tongue explored his mouth. "They're not doing too well. Either of them. The anxiety they're going through is beginning to show. I'm worried about them both but Heyes in particular."

"Are you saying you think they may go back to robbing?"

"No sir I firmly believe they surely don't want to do that. They're trying real hard but frustrated that they don't seem to be getting anywhere. You can't blame them for thinking that … the amnesty might never happen. No one was even hurt in any of their robberies, let alone killed yet their wanted posters say dead or alive. They're living each day in fear that they'll run into someone who could kill them. They're living without hope. That don't seem right to me."

"You told me at the beginning that there was never any casualties and I know that from the records."

"Then why is dead or alive there? And such a high amount? That's a fortune." Lom knew why but he wanted the Governor to tell him. Keep it in his mind.

Hoyt sighed. "The railroads and the banks. It's their idea. They wanted Heyes and Curry stopped and were prepared to pay that much to get it done. They don't care how it happens just that it's done." Hoyt paused. "I'm in a dilemma, Sheriff Trevors. I know that Heyes and Curry are trying. I admire them for turning round some impossible situations that, to all intents and purposes, seemed like a smoking gun at first glance." He paused again and licked his lips.

"You're concerned about Heyes you say?"

"Yes sir."

Hoyt looked to be having a battle with himself and then he appeared to make some kind of a decision. To Lom's surprise, Hoyt got up abruptly and strode to the bookshelves. He selected a book, sighed and leafed through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

"What do you make of that, Sheriff?"

He handed Lom the book, opened at the selected page. Lom blinked. The book was a quarterly binding of the weekly publication, Scientific American. The journal Hoyt had opened was from February 1882 and the title was "The Mechanics of Robbery".

Lom glanced at Hoyt who was perched on the edge of his desk.

"Read it Sheriff. I think you'll find it very interesting."

Lom bent his head to do just that. He widened his eyes when he read aloud,

"_This method of blowing a safe was invented by the notorious outlaw, Hannibal Heyes, when he and his partner, Kid Curry, robbed the Merchant's Bank in Denver, Colorado, June 1879. (Both men are currently still at large. 1882)"_

Lom looked up, confused. "But this is a matter of public record."

"Yes, it is. I wasn't aware of all the facts until I read that paper," Hoyt agreed. "There's a couple of things that are left out. Perhaps to stop someone else imitating this robbery. Two important and deliberate things. Continue reading, Sheriff."

"_It should be noted in particular for its ingenious use of nitro glycerine as the propellant, coupled with the creation of a vacuum to enhance the explosive properties. It should also be noted that this method makes very little sound, making it ideal for use in bank robbery!"_

"The article goes onto list the equipment used," Hoyt said. "Except for two things: one is fairly obvious; the other only hinted at."

Lom had a fair idea how Heyes had blown the Pierce and Hamilton 1878 and the equipment used.

"Such as Governor?" he asked, wanting no misunderstanding.

"The process relies on accurate timings. It's fairly obvious that the criminals would need some kind of timepiece. An alarm clock perhaps?" Hoyt paused. "In order to create a vacuum, one first has to make sure that the safe is airtight. The method eluded to in the article is not specifically detailed. Now I know that the public records of this incident say that there was putty found at the scene. I checked just to be sure. I also found that the putty left behind was a particular brand. Red Seal Putty, the quick drying variant. Now that WASN'T in the public record but it's perfect for this type of er … operation. The ordinary type wouldn't do the job properly. It may APPEAR to but it wouldn't create a GOOD ENOUGH seal in the time. An unknowing perpetrator would blow the safe up and himself with it. No, this was well thought out by a clever mind."

"So, the writer musta thought it deserved a mention, in what I presume is a creditable academic journal."

"Indeed," Hoyt agreed and hesitated. "Do you know who the author is, Sheriff Trevors?"

Lom's eyes flicked back to the book. "Nial H Benshaye?" He pulled a face and shrugged. "Probably a young professor wanting to make a name for himself?"

Hoyt gave a rare grin and took the book back. "Oh noo! That's exactly what I thought at first. Took me a while to figure it out."

He returned to his side of the desk and his chair.

"Nial H Benshaye is an anagram of Hannibal Heyes."

Lom's eyes widened and so did his mouth. Oh s**t, he thought. He groaned and rubbed his forehead in despair.

Hoyt leaned back in his chair and tapped the book thoughtfully.

"I think Hannibal Heyes is a lot, lot smarter than we've previously given him credit for. However, I don't think he wrote that article out of bravado. He was sending me a message, knowing that I'm a man of science and likely to read and have published papers in that very publication. Which I do and have. The fact that he left out the type of putty means he's well aware of its importance and what I might make of it." He paused and then said deliberately. "I would hate to think a man THAT smart would return to his previous criminal activities. The law, as we know it, doesn't stand a chance."

Lom looked up sharply.

Hoyt looked thoughtful. "I have to ponder on this some more, Sheriff. Can you come back tomorrow? About this time?"

Lom had been planning to start for home after this meeting but if there was a possibility … no, no, he didn't even want to think it. Instead, he nodded.

"Yes Governor, I can come back tomorrow."

ASJASJASJASJ

When Lom entered the Governor's office he next day, the first things he saw on the edge of the desk were two white envelopes, one marked Mr H Heyes, the other Mr J Curry. The Governor himself had his back to him, looking out of the window. He didn't acknowledge Lom but started to speak.

"I've thought long and hard about this overnight and I've come to the conclusion that you're right. They've more than proved themselves and there is no point continuing this charade. I have two options. Either I renew the law's efforts to bring them in or grant the amnesty. I don't think the former, under the circumstances, will bear fruit and I can foresee Mr Heyes and Mr Curry being somewhat AGGREIVED with that course of action. No doubt, they would extract their revenge in a most spectacular way. One that would cause me considerable embarrassment. Especially should word get out that I had promised an amnesty and not made good on my promise. I've no doubt THEY would make sure of that."

Hoyt turned from the window.

"So I have granted their amnesty. I don't consider this blackmail, simply the action of two desperate and justifiably so, men. There in those envelopes are the papers. All I need do is sign and stamp them and they're official. However, before I do I wanted to talk to you first."

He sat heavily in his chair and motioned for Lom to do so as well.

"Yes sir." Lom was having trouble keeping a straight face when all it wanted to do was beam. He'd done it! He'd got Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, the two most successful outlaws in the history of the West, amnesty! Right here in front of him, in these two envelopes.

"What kind of men are they, Sheriff Trevors? I know about their reputations but reputations are sometimes exaggerated. I've also read some of the dime novel stories about them." Hoyt rolled his eyes at admitting that he had done so. Despite himself, Lom smiled at an image of the Governor of Wyoming, a solemn and serious man, sat in front of a fire, feet up, reading a dime novel. "Yet I don't think either give me a full picture of these two men. I'm beginning to realise that there is more to them than meets the eye."

"Yes sir. There is." Lom licked his lips, realising what he said now was crucial. The amnesties weren't yet signed and Hoyt could still change his mind.

"Start with Curry," Hoyt prompted. "The gunman."

Lom shook his head. "No sir. That's one thing he's not. Yeah, the Kid's fast on the draw there's no denying but he doesn't show off and he doesn't broadcast his speed. In fact, he goes outta his way to avoid having to draw at all. If he does, he rarely has to pull the trigger. His speed is usually enough to get the other fella to back down. When he's HAD to pull the trigger, he's aimed for an arm or a leg."

"He's never shot to kill?"

"No sir." After the Bilson incident, Heyes and Curry had resolved to keep it between themselves so Lom was unaware of what happened in Matherville.

Hoyt sat back and linked his fingers over his stomach. "Hmmm. Of the two of them, because of that reputation, granting his amnesty is the hardest to justify." He sighed. "But I suppose details can be checked and substantiated."

"Yes sir and I'll stake my badge that you won't find anything different to what I've just told you."

Hoyt nodded. "You've hinted at someone who has a high regard for his fellow man. Tell me more about the man."

"Yes sir he does. He doesn't like to see injustice or folks down on their luck. If he's in a position to help then he will. Heyes is always ribbing him about helping the needy folk."

"Heyes won't?"

"No sir it's not that. Heyes is more suspicious, more cynical. He'll look for an angle first."

"Sometimes that's the best way to be."

"Yes sir. It can be. Y'see they complement each other, work as a team. They keep each other in check. I don't think either would do very well without the other."

"And Heyes?"

Lom grunted. "Heyes is more difficult to read, a closed book. Yet every now and then, a crack will appear and you catch a glimpse of the man underneath. He won't thank me for telling you this Governor but there's a vulnerability about him. I think he likes to make sure that isn't exposed too often so he is what he is, thoughtful and cautious and meticulous. He doesn't like to leave things to chance."

"Like writing the article?"

"I guess so."

Hoyt sat considering for a long while. Lom shifted uncomfortably. Had he said too much? Had he said something wrong? Had he scuppered the amnesty at the last minute?

"And what will they do? If I grant their amnesty?"

Lom was relieved. Perhaps he hadn't ruined their chances after all. Yet this was a difficult question and he didn't know the answer. He would just have to go on his gut and hope.

"To be honest sir I don't know for sure. They haven't confided in me and in truth I don't think they've given it much thought. I don't think they wanted to contemplate what happens after, in case … ."

"But what do YOU think?"

Now Lom was on the spot.

"I think they can turn their hands to anything if they're of a mind," he started, slowly. "Whatever they decide to do you can be sure they won't rush into anything. They'll give it careful thought discuss it fully. They know this is their only chance and they don't wanna mess it up. They've gone through too much to get this far."

"Are they in contact with any of their old friends?"

Lom shook his head. "Not as far as I know," he said, honestly. "They've tried to put as much distance from that life as they can."

Hoyt nodded and reached forward for the two envelopes. He pulled them slowly towards him.

"Very well I will sign their amnesties. However, there are certain conditions that you should make very clear to them."

Lom nodded eagerly.

"The first and most important is that if they perpetrate a crime, any crime within five years then the amnesty can and will be rescinded and their entire record of criminal activities will be taken into account. That's not just in Wyoming, Sheriff. That applies to any state in the Union."

Lom nodded. "I understand."

"The second condition is that they will have no contact with any known criminal for the same five years."

Lom nodded. "I understand."

Hoyt shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I hope you do, Sheriff, because in light of what you've just said to me, I'm going to add a third condition and that may prove difficult for you." He licked his lips before going on. "For personal reasons that I'm not going to go into here I don't intend to make this public for another six months. As you know my tenure of Governor here in Wyoming finishes at the end of the year. Before I go, I will write to all the lawmen in Wyoming, telling them of the amnesty. Word will get around slowly." Lom opened his mouth to protest but Hoyt stopped him. "Let me finish. I'm aware of the consequences that will have for Mr Heyes and Mr Curry but that's where you come in. I want you to keep them gainfully employed in Porterville until the end of the year. Under your supervision, they shouldn't come to any harm. It will also give them a safe place to be while they think about their future."

Lom nodded and rubbed a hand over his face. How on earth could he keep these two free spirits anchored to Porterville for six months? As if reading his thoughts, Hoyt continued.

"Of course they can LEAVE Porterville if they so wish. The amnesty would still be in place BUT if they do leave, they run a grave risk. All their efforts, and yours, would be for nothing if they were killed. I suggest you impress upon them, most strongly, that six months of town arrest is in their best interests."

Hoyt gave Lom a hard stare.

"Do we have a deal, Sheriff?"

"Yes sir. I'll think of something to keep 'em in Porterville for six months." If it kills me, he added to himself.

"Very well. I'll add that condition to the official record here."

Hoyt slid an official looking document from the first envelope, plucked out a pen from the inkwell, hesitated before quickly adding his signature to the bottom. He blotted it carefully. Taking an inkpad and stamp from his desk drawer, he carefully applied a stamp over his signature. Then he slid document and envelope to Lom to reassemble. Lom noted it was the one for Heyes. The Governor had seemed more comfortable about giving amnesty to him.

"The letter in each envelope sets out the conditions under which I have granted these amnesties. There are a few other minor ones but I've mentioned the important ones. I stress again, if you care for these two men and I can see by your face that you do, then insisting they stay in Porterville for six months is just as important."

Hoyt now had the second document in front of him and he hesitated.

"Heyes has control over Curry?" he barked.

"No sir," Lom said, quietly. "Curry is his own man but what Heyes can do and does is influence him. Curry makes his own decisions but he listens to Heyes. Like I said before they're a team."

"Does Heyes back Curry up?"

"If it's the only way and it's the right thing to do."

Hoyt nodded. Before he could change his mind, he repeated signing, blotting and stamping. He pushed the amnesty across to Lom to reassemble the second envelope.

Securing both precious envelopes, Lom pushed himself up.

"Thank you Governor. You won't hear of Heyes and Curry in a negative way again."

"I hope not Sheriff." He leaned forward and offered his hand.

After a shake, Lom was walking out ten inches above the floor. Now all he had to do was find Heyes and the Kid and tell them the good news. At their last meeting, the two now former outlaws had been despondent. He hoped he could find them in time before they did something they ALL would regret.

Notes:

The above is set in late June 1882.

Dr John Wesley Hoyt was Governor of the Territory of Wyoming between May 1878 and August 1882. This later date is significant as he was about to resign and may even have done so, although not made public, by the time Lom goes to see him. Hoyt was a Professor of Chemistry and was well respected as a scientist and educator.

He would return to Wyoming in 1887 and became the first President of the University of Wyoming. When Heyes tells this to Wheat in "Settling Wheat" I had mistakenly misread the date and believed this to be the same year as the amnesty 1882. True to the Alias Smith and Jones style, never let facts get in the way of a story!

Dr Hoyt died May 1912.


	6. Chapter 6 Life Changes

Life Changes

When Lom returned to Porterville from Cheyenne, he was surprised to see Luke Fletcher, his predecessor and retired sheriff, behind his desk.

"Howdy Luke, surprised to see you there. Where's Harker?" Lom was immediately suspicious. Luke occasionally helped out with law enforcement matters but generally only for giving advice these days. Lom hadn't asked Luke to help mind the store while he was away.

"Howdy Lom. Harker's out showing ya new deputy about."

"New deputy? WHAT new deputy?"

Luke smirked. "Harker said he didn't want to leave you short handed when he retired so he's got you a replacement. His nephew. Bart."

"Retirement? Replacement?" Then Lom groaned and held his head. "Yeah he did say something 'bout retiring afore I went to the Capitol." He groaned again and then looked at Luke, startled. "Bart? Bart Wilkins? I know him."

Luke grinned. "So do I," he chortled.

Lom was nearly apoplectic. "He's had every job going in town and been fired from all of 'em!"

"Yep, that's the one." Luke sobered. "But ya know Lom, the first rule of being a lawman is not to pre-judge. This job might just be the making of him."

Lom growled and looked doubtful.

Both men looked round as the door opened. It was the clerk from the telegraph office.

"Telegram, sheriff. Marked urgent," he said, holding out the chit. Lom had sent a telegram to Hardy City before he had left Cheyenne. He'd asked if Smith and Jones were still there in the hotel. The reply to come to Porterville.

"Thanks."

Lom unfolded the message as the man left and read. "Awh!" He sighed. It was perhaps too much to hope that they were still there. The telegram said they had left that morning on the south bound stage.

"Problem, Lom?"

Lom sighed. "Ah, the usual. How d'ya find men who don't wanna be found?" It was a rhetorical question.

Luke chuckled. "Well if ya can work that out Lom, all lawmen would raise a statute to ya and worship at it."

Lom shook his head in despair. "Sure ya don't wanna come back to work Luke? Could use your help."

"Sorry Lom, not me. I'm enjoying my retirement. 'Sides, my Mary would have my guts for garters if I even thought about it. And talking of Mary … here she is."

Luke stood up and Lom looked round as Mary Fletcher breezed in.

"Hi Lom. Ready, Papa?"

Lom tipped his hat and smiled. "Mary."

Mary Fletcher was a beautiful young woman, bright and cheerful and above all, her own woman. She owned and ran her own business, the successful ladies hat store, and kept her own house. Still a spinster at the ripe old age of twenty-three she had rejected all suitors. Lom suspected it would take a special kind of man to tie Ms Fletcher down. One that Porterville currently didn't possess.

"Whist," Luke answered Lom's unspoken question. "I tell ya Lom, I don't know how I ever had time to put in a day's work."

The Fletchers left Lom to the tranquillity of his office. The first thing he did was deposit the two precious envelopes in the jail's safe. Then he sat at his desk and contemplated the telegram. How on earth was he going to find them?

Lom knew the stage had taken them south but south was a big place. The ultimate destination for the stage was Walden in the north Colorado mountains, but there were several stops along the way. They could be anywhere.

He had his head in his hands when the door opened again. Looking up, he groaned inwardly. It seemed he had more pressing matters to deal with right now. In the shape of deputies, both old and new.

ASJASJASJASJ

"How about that one?" the Kid stabbed his finger on a job advertised in the newspaper office window.

Heyes read the short notice and scowled. "Kinda hard on the back, Thaddeus."

"Don't look as though there's much else, Joshua. We asked in the saloon, in the livery and the bank." He glanced round at the one street town behind him. "This isn't exactly a great metropolis is it?"

Heyes gave him a wide-eyed look and took a deep breath.

"'Sides," the Kid grinned at him. "Ya did say you wanted something different. That's different."

The job was digging drainage ditches for a farmer.

"Digging holes?"

The Kid shrugged and looked innocent. "It's paid work. How much money we got?"

The hotel in Hardy City, meals, doctoring bills, stage fare and their living expenses so far in Crystal had made a big dent in the money they had earned from delivering the pearls for the Governor. There was also horses and gear to buy in the not too distance future. Heyes was determined to keep the money Lom had given them intact as much as possible for a rainy day. Unfortunately, that had been yesterday, when it had rained all day and they had passed the time in the saloon playing poker. Neither had come out with much more than when they went in.

"Enough for a few more days," Heyes growled.

"And then what? Job mighta gone by then so what d'ya say?" When Heyes didn't answer, added. "Unless of course ya still hurting."

"Not so much thank you," he ground out. "Awh, okay let's go see the man," he sighed, reluctantly.

The Kid smiled and slapped him on the back.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Y'know Heyes this is supposed to be a two man job," the Kid said, looking up.

He was currently at the bottom of a ditch with a pickaxe.

"We're taking turns," Heyes said. He was leaning on his pickaxe, legs crossed, watching the Kid.

"I ain't seen much of you taking your turn," the Kid grumbled. "You've hardly raised a sweat!" Stripped the waist, his torso was glistening, whereas Heyes still looked cool in his Henley.

"I'm standing guard."

"Over what?"

"Our guns. Our horses." He flung a hand out towards where the two horses stood under a shady tree. They looked content to watch their two dumb humans working in the hot sun. "Our LUNCH."

"Heyes there's no one around for miles."

"How do you know? You can't see anyone down there."

"I can see you. Now get in this ditch."

"No need to be like that Kid," Heyes grumbled. "I'm just looking out for our interests."

"Heyes. Get. In. The. Ditch."

"Well as you put it like that."

Heyes slowly lowered himself to the ground and slid gingerly into the ditch, behind the Kid. They worked back to back. Heyes, careful to be far enough away from the Kid who was swinging his pickaxe with gusto, poked delicately at the ground, After several minutes of poking and swinging, Heyes broke the silence.

"That's what I like about hard physical work, Kid. It gets you out into the fresh air, all this beautiful countryside, birds singing … ."

"You gripping."

Heyes snorted.

"Y'know hard physical work is what ya need. Ya used to be skinny but now … ."

"Skinny! I'm not skinny!" Heyes looked round, indignation on his face.

"Not now no. Ya used to be."

"Did not," Heyes poked at the ground with his pickaxe. "I had a sparsity of flab."

Kid looked round, rolled his eyes and shook his head. For a moment, he tended to his digging, and then he straightened up and turned round. "Ha! Got ya! Ya said HAD!"

Heyes looked round and frowned. "So?"

"It's the past tense."

Heyes straightened up, leant on his pickaxe, one hand on his hip. He was frantically thinking of a smart retort when in the distance behind him the Kid saw a lone rider approaching. As there was nowhere else to be going but them, the Kid pointed.

"Wonder what he wants?" Heyes frowned.

"You fellas called Smith and Jones?" the rider asked, pulling up quickly.

Heyes was the nearer of the two. "Why?"

"Got a telegram."

The rider held it out.

Heyes moved to take it. "Then we're Smith and Jones. Thanks."

The rider turned his horse and rode away, not waiting to hear if there was a reply.

The Kid moved to join his partner. "What's it say?"

Heyes pulled off his gloves, pushed back his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. He took a deep breath as he opened the envelope, thinking not for the first time, that he wasn't cut out to be a digger of holes.

He blinked as he read.

"_To Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones. Come to Porterville as soon as can. Have news. Lom." _

Heyes looked at the Kid. He looked back.

"Do you think …?" the Kid started.

Heyes sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard.

"I dunno Kid," he murmured in reply.

The Kid's face was a broad grin now. "Heyes!" he yelled. "We musta got it! Why else would he write?"

Heyes was frowning and the Kid shook him by the arms. "Heyes!"

Heyes swallowed hard again and he grinned weakly. He wasn't convinced. Could it be true? He wasn't sure he could bring himself to even entertain the notion.

"Could be a trap," Heyes said, quietly.

The Kid looked at him astonished. "A trap? What makes ya think that? This is Lom. Why would he trap us?" Heyes shrugged. "Look the last thing Lom said to me was that he was going to speak to the Governor again. Try convincing him we're ready for amnesty. Really lay it on the line." Lom hadn't exactly said that but the Kid had extrapolated. "He said he'd be in touch soon. This IS in touch soon!"

"I dunno Kid."

"Come on, Heyes. Let's go quit and pack up," the Kid said, starting to walk in the direction of their horses.

"Quit?"

Heyes looked down at the drains they had been digging only half finished.

"Don't tell me you're enjoying being a farmer?"

Heyes smiled and shook his head, realising that their dream may now be more than a possibility. He pulled on his gloves, snatched up his shirt and followed.

ASJASJASJASJASJ

"Come in, boys. I've been expecting ya," Lom said, as they walked in.

Heyes looked round as the Kid shut the door and then back at Lom. "How d'you know where we were?" he frowned.

"Did we get it, Lom?" the Kid asked, eagerly, coming to stand by his partner in front of the desk.

Lom grinned ruefully and motioned for them to sit. He went to the safe, opened it and brought out two envelopes. Behind him, Heyes and Curry looked at each other. Could this really be it?

Lom locked up and sat back down behind his desk. Watching the boys carefully, he slowly pushed one envelope in front of each. Without a word, he sat back.

Heyes sat. Or rather collapsed. The Kid remained standing, snatched his up immediately and tore it open. He unfolded two sheets. Heyes watched closely as the Kid frowned at the first page before looking at the second sheet. Then his eyes widened and a look of astonishment crossed his face.

"We done it Heyes! We got it! Right here in black and white!" the Kid, whooped.

Heyes leaned forward and slowly took his envelope from the desk. Chewing his bottom lip, he broke the seal. Then licking his lips he cautiously took out the contents.

"We finally got it! I never thought we would," the Kid continued. He nudged Heyes. "Told ya we would!"

Heyes read the first paragraph of the letter. Nodding slightly, he swallowed hard and looked at the second sheet, which was the amnesty itself. He noted it was dated over a week ago. Must have taken Lom that long to find them. Not bad considering they hadn't WANTED to be found. Heyes returned to the letter. With a deep breath and watering eyes, he read the rest.

Meanwhile, the Kid danced a jig around the jail.

Lom studied them both, noting their reactions. He smiled ruefully. Perfect reflection of their different personalities.

"What's he mean "no big announcement"?" Heyes frowned at Lom.

"I'll explain," Lom said. He frowned at the Kid. "Can ya shut him up?" he asked in irritation.

"Kid!"

Heyes had to holler several times before the Kid heard and came to rest.

"But we got it Heyes. Didn't we?" He looked suddenly worried seeing Heyes and Lom frowning at him. He retook his chair in concern.

"Yes we did," Heyes confirmed. "But it isn't that simple. Lom needs to explain."

"Ya've got your amnesty," Lom started. "No question about it. I saw the Governor sign them myself. Those are official papers."

He paused, looking from one to the other.

"The Governor was very impressed with how you've conducted yourselves over the past two years. Oh, he admits there have been some headlines and he's come close to tearing up the deal a couple of times. Somehow, and I really don't wanna know how, ya've managed to turn things around and keep ya record clear. So he's decided to give you your amnesty now before someone takes advantage of the secret."

He paused again.

"But he can't make an announcement. It's not a good time for him, politically. Well I guess it never would be pardoning two high profile outlaws like you two. So he wants it kept quiet until his term is up in six months. Before he finishes he'll write to all the lawmen in Wyoming and the news will just kinda leak out over time." Lom winced. "He'll be out of office by then so his successor will get the fall out."

"But that means that still nobody knows!" Heyes protested. "We'll still be in the same situation we were last week!"

"We could get killed!" the Kid, added, realisation having suddenly dawned.

"Yes. There is that possibility." He held up his hands to forestall any further protests. "That's why the Governor and I have come up with a plan," Lom said, looking from one to the other. This was the hard part.

Heyes and Curry looked at each other and then back at Lom.

"What sorta plan?" Heyes was suspicious.

"Well now don't look at me like that," Lom grumbled, seeing his look. "I've done my best at short notice." He took a deep breath. "We want you to stay here in Porterville until the end of the year."

"That's six months!" They protested in unison.

"We'd go crazy!" Heyes added. He looked at the Kid, who was shaking his head.

"Yeah I figured that so I've got ya both a job and place to live."

"Why?" Heyes was still suspicious and his voice had taken on a hard edge. He was looking for any drawback.

"To keep ya safe Heyes. The Governor promised he'd write a letter 'bout the amnesty to all lawmen in Wyoming BUT only near the end of his term. I've no reason to disbelieve him. You go running around before the news is out and like the Kid said ya could get killed."

Lom looked from one to the other, waiting for realisation to sink in.

"I'm trying to keep you alive boys and this is the only way to do it. Here where….." He was going to say, where I can keep an eye on you but changed his mind. "… I can look out for ya." He looked anxiously at them. "It's the only safe way."

Heyes sat back in his chair, swallowed as he considered for a moment or two.

"Will the letter say where we're are?" he asked.

"No. Just that you've been granted amnesty and are no longer wanted."

"That's a good deal?"

"It is Heyes. You'd better believe it."

Heyes nodded. "I do. I do." He patted the Kid reassuringly on the shoulder. "Okay." He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Tell us about these jobs."

The Kid frowned at him and Heyes shook his head at him. "No choice, Kid. Lom's right. We've got it. D'you wanna risk getting killed? Now?" He shook his head again. "I don't like it Kid any more than you but I'm not prepared to risk it. Not now I have this in my hand."

The Kid sighed and looked up at the ceiling. They had dreamed about this moment for two long, hard years and now it had finally happened. Well this wasn't how he thought it would be. He swallowed hard. So how had he'd imagined it would be? He shook his head. They had never dared get that far. Yet he knew Heyes was right. There was too much to risk.

Slowly he nodded in acceptance.

Lom visibly relaxed. "Okay. I didn't have much time. Wasn't sure how long it would take to find you."

"Yes how did you find us?" Heyes frowned. Beside him, the Kid rolled his eyes.

"Oh I followed ya trail. You were quite hard to find."

"That was kinda the point Lom," the Kid said.

Heyes smiled faintly and licked his lips. "Jobs, Lom?"

"Oh yes. I had to consider what ya were each good at without drawing attention." He smiled pleased with himself. "But it took some doing to find legal things!" he said, rolling his eyes. "The owner of The Hardware store wants to retire. About time too if you ask me. He drinks more'n a little, turns in late, closes early. The place is an utter mess. How he ever finds anything to sell is beyond me. Heyes, ya just the man to sort it out and get it running like it's supposed to."

Heyes smiled and nodded proudly at the compliment.

Lom turned to the Kid.

"Kid, you were more difficult. The only job I could get ya was in the livery stables." He winced in apology. "Best I could do."

"Well that's real nice of you, Lom," the Kid said, sarcastically. "Can't I join Heyes in the hardware store? Sounds like it's too bigga job for just one man?"

Lom shook his head slowly. "Well now Kid I'm sorry but it's best I keep you two apart. You're gonna attract attention as it is. Two good-looking young fellas just happening to arrive in town together. Somebody might get to thinking, especially when the news gets out."

The Kid looked at his partner. Heyes smiled back pleasantly.

"It's only for six months Kid." He slapped the Kid on the shoulder again.

"Six months!" The Kid was indignant. "Six months of shovelling….." Heyes held up a finger warningly. "Manure!" The Kid spat the word. He slapped his hat down on the desk and held his head groaning.

Heyes and Lom swopped grins.

"You mentioned somewhere to live?" Heyes inquired, rubbing the Kid's back.

"Yes. I found a small house on the edge of town. It ain't much but the rent's cheap. I'm sure you can fix it up. Take ya there now if you like?"

Heyes nodded and patted the Kid on the back. "Come on."

ASJASJASJASJ

"Ya've got the weekend to fix it up. Start work on Monday boys. Good luck."

Lom turned his horse and rode away, leaving Heyes and Curry to survey their new home.

It was a single storey cabin. Outside the veranda had planks missing and the hitching rail had collapsed at one end. Weeds grow close to the house and there was a general air of neglect.

Heyes stood hands on hips, relishing restoring the cabin to its former glory. The Kid sulked. It looked like a lot of work to him for little gain.

Inside there was just two rooms, a main room containing everything they needed to live, and a small bedroom, with two bunks, leading off. It was obvious that the place hadn't been lived in for some time. It was dirty and most of the furniture broken. The previous occupants looked to have left in a hurry, the remains of their last meal still on the table.

The Kid looked round in disgust and shook his head. "I'm not staying here, Heyes."

But Heyes could see through the mess. "It isn't so bad Kid. We just need to get on with it. Lom says we've got all weekend. Soon have the place looking good, you'll see." He spied a broom and thrust it at him. "Here. Get sweeping."

The Kid scowled and snatched it from him. As he did so, the broom head fell off. Heyes bit his bottom lip to stop from laughing. The Kid's face twitched into a grin.

"Okay Heyes we'll do it your way," he sighed.


	7. Chapter 7 Day One

Day One

Their first night as free men didn't exactly go to plan. Having made a preliminary start on tidying the cabin, they had gone to the saloon, intent on celebrating. However, after just two drinks, both found themselves sitting quietly at a table, lost in thought. Their enthusiasm for celebrating suddenly forgotten.

Realisation had settled on them separately; that it was all over. They could stop running. They were safe here in Porterville. What they had focussed on, struggled with, juggled with and fought so hard for over the last two years, had suddenly happened. It had come as a big shock. So what do they do now? Not wanting to tempt fate or jinx it by thinking about what would happen afterwards, it wasn't a subject, either of them had ever dwelt on for long. They had no ideas. Now they had six months to think about it. Six months before they needed an answer to that question. Time enough to think long and hard. Formulate proper plans. Consider carefully what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives.

However, with the amnesty came an almost overwhelming feeling of loss. Not exactly, like losing a good friend or a relative, but a loss all the same. Both experienced an emptiness and an uncertainty. It was unsettling. A feeling neither of them liked or knew how to cope with. Nor was it something they wanted to say to the other. Preferring instead to come to terms with their new status privately. Yet both knew the other was feeling something similar.

By unspoken agreement, they had finished their drinks and left the saloon early. They'd returned to the cabin that was now their home, undressed in relative silence and gone to bed. To their surprise, they slept like the dead. No tossing and turning. No lying awake thinking until the wee small hours. Just sleep. Deep, refreshing, untroubled sleep.

That first post-amnesty morning, Heyes had shaved properly for the first time in months and returned his sideburns to where they used to be. When he had turned from the sink and wiped away the remaining foam, the Kid could see that the tension had gone from his face. The Kid suddenly realising quite how hard the strain had been on his partner. On their own, the changes in Heyes had been gradual and subtle so he hadn't noticed. Now with the weight of uncertainty lifted, a different Heyes smiled back at him. The man he used to know.

The Kid pondered if the same strain was apparent in him as well. When it was his turn to shave, he decided it had been. He looked different from yesterday. More youthful, happier and dare he even think it? More handsome?

They went into town later that morning to buy basic foodstuffs and other household items. And almost more importantly, supplies to fix the place up. After buying the essentials, the Kid decided he ought to stop by and introduce himself to the owner of the livery. Learn the fine art of plop picking, he joked.

"You go ahead. We need some hardware. Perfect opportunity for me to introduce me," Heyes beamed. "See you later. At home?"

The Kid nodded, doubtfully. He wasn't so enthusiastic about calling the little run down cabin home just yet. He had spent an uncomfortable night on a hard, lumpy bunk that was too narrow and too short. THAT was the first thing he wanted fixed.

"Ya got the list?"

"Yes." Heyes held it up in his gloved hand.

The Kid nodded. "See ya later."

They parted company, going in opposite directions. Saturday was a busy day on the streets of Porterville. The town was bustling with people going about their business but not too busy to notice there were strangers in town. Two strangers. Two handsome young men no less. In their separate directions, the two now ex-outlaws smiled and tipped their hats at passing ladies as they went.

Heyes reached his destination first. He stood outside and looked up at the precarious, lopsided sign.

"Hmmm, that looks a little dangerous," he muttered.

The shades were down but the sign on the door said, come in we're open. Yet when he tried the door, locked.

"Hmmm."

The window of the shop had a rail across the lower half. From it hung a dirty, once salmon pink, curtain. The windowpane was dusty and cobwebby. In places, the putty had degraded or was missing, leaving a dangerous crack between the glass and surround. It wouldn't take much to loosen the glass. The outside paintwork was old and peeling badly. All in all, it was a decrepit looking store, a far cry from the prosperous place he and the Kid had robbed of dynamite two years previous. Heyes briefly wondered if that robbery had been the cause of the store's decline. He quickly pushed that uncomfortable thought from his mind. Lom had said there were other reasons.

"Hmmm."

Heyes had to stand on tiptoe to look in. Not that he could see very far. Inside, was dark and looked … cluttered was putting it mildly. There appeared to be no sign of organisation or system. The contents piled high, in higgledy-piggledy stacks. And downright dangerous. One slight brush against one of those stacks … . Oh it didn't bear thinking about.

"Aaagh!

The place deeply offended Heyes' sense of order! He puffed. He would have his work cut out that's for sure. Yet he needed things the store should sell NOW so where could he get them? Only one thing for it. Ask the man who had gotton him into this mess. Lom.

As Heyes reached the door of the sheriff's office, a familiar figure was coming out.

"Mr Smith!"

"Deputy Wilkins!"

The two men shook hands.

"No, no, not deputy now. I've retired," said Harker. "The sheriff has a new deputy."

"Yeah?" Heyes looked wide-eyed. Lom hadn't said.

"My nephew," Harker said, proudly. "Bart. Good lad, good lad. Sheriff's pleased that there's no change in the running of this organisation. Bart's just like me. Fitted right in."

"Ah, that's good," Heyes smiled. "I'm just on my way in now to see Lom. Is he in?"

Harker nodded. "Yes, oh yes he's in. Doing paperwork. Well I'd best be on my way. Lots to do now I've retired. Give my regards to Mr Jones. Is he with you?"

"Yes. He's down at the livery. We'll be around for a little while."

"That's good, that's good. Perhaps I'll run into you fellas, talk over old times, huh?"

"Yes. Look forward to it."

With a wave, Harker was off. Heyes turned to the door, rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together and felt the familiar wave of trepidation at entering a sheriff's office wash over him.

Lom was behind his desk. To his left at another desk was a young man, spotting a shiny new Deputy Sheriff's badge. Must be Bart, thought Heyes.

"Hi Lom," Heyes greeted, cheerily.

"Mr Smith," Lom scowled and looked from him to Bart. It was obvious by the expression on his face that he wasn't enthused by his new deputy and Heyes suddenly appearing was a complication. "What can I do for you?"

Heyes came to rest in the middle of the room, hands on hips. He smiled smugly at Lom, widened his eyes and tipped his head slightly in Bart's direction. Lom growled and stood up.

"This is my new deputy, Bart Wilkins. He's Harker's nephew." Lom tipped his head to indicate what he thought of that. "Bart this is Joshua Smith, a friend of mine."

"Ah." Bart stood up, went to offer his hand, thought better of it, wiped the palm on his pants first, before offering it again. Heyes, grateful that he was wearing gloves, shook politely. "Glad to meet ya, Mr Smith. Any friend of the sheriff's is a friend of mine."

"Bart. Deputy ay? Good for you."

"Yessir, right nice job this is. I'm real grateful to Sheriff Trevors for giving me this opportunity."

"Ah, Lom's generous like that." Heyes looked at Lom, who false smiled back at him. "A word sheriff?"

"Er yeah. Say Bart 'bout time ya did the rounds isn't it?"

"Is it? Oh, yes sorry sheriff. Forgot the time. I'll go now."

Bart snatched up his hat and scrambled to the door. As the door closed behind him, Heyes gave a deep, husky chuckle.

"New deputy huh?"

"Ye-ah," Lom scowled and shook his head. "He's willing enough but I doubt if he could spot a crook if he fell over 'em." He brightened. "Speaking of crooks … ."

Heyes looked disgruntled. "Now Lom you know you can't say that any longer … ," he said, raising a finger warningly. "And I take exception to that description. I was a gentleman highwayman. A redistributor of wealth."

Lom scowled and sat down. "What can I do for you, Heyes?"

"Took a look in The Hardware Store."

"What did ya think?"

"It's closed."

Lom grunted. "Told ya. Probably find Seth in the saloon this time of day."

"Hmmm." Heyes frowned. "Isn't him I want to see. Me'n the Kid are fixing up the place. Need supplies. Somewhere else in town, I can get 'em?"

"Not really. What d'ya need?"

Heyes pursed his lips. "For now some lumber, nails, tools. That kinda thing."

Lom looked thoughtful. "Finlay the undertaker may have some lumber he can sell ya. Nails too I reckon. And I can lend ya some tools. If'n ya promise to look after 'em."

"Of course, Lom," Heyes said, with chagrin. "Like they were our very own."

"And I want 'em back."

"Of course Lom. What do you take us for? Crooks?" He bit his lip.

Lom ignored that comment. He was too busy to get into it. "Where's the Kid?" He looked suddenly round at the side door.

"Went down to the livery to introduce himself. Said something about learning the art of plop picking." Heyes winced. "Not sure he'll stick at that job Lom."

"Me neither but it was all I could get him in the time. It'll do for now. He can look for something else when he's settled."

"Yeah, IF he settles."

"You'll have to make sure that he does. Heyes I don't need to tell ya its vital that you two stay here for these six months."

"I know. I know. It'll all work out Lom. Don't worry."

Lom nodded doubtfully and looked at Heyes for a moment as if he wanted to say something else but couldn't decide whether to or not. He sighed and decided to.

"How are ya Heyes?" he asked, quietly.

Heyes nodded thoughtfully. "Okay," he said, slowly, and then licked his lips. "Not over the shock yet," he laughed. "Think it'll take a while to sink in."

"Yeah, I reckon it will. Good to see you looking well Heyes. You worried me the last time I saw ya."

Heyes frowned and folded his arms. "Yes the Kid said. Why?"

"Awh, you're not as young as you used to be Heyes. Jumping on that train was a fool thing to do."

"Jumping off that train wasn't so clever either." Heyes rolled his eyes. "Still. Not gonna do that anymore as a law-abiding citizen am I?" he smiled, tight lipped, hands on hips.

Lom smiled. "I hope ya don't have any call to."

Heyes bit his lip and then held out his hand. "Thanks Lom. Guess we didn't say it yesterday." Lom stood up and clasped the offered hand. "Thank you for giving us back our lives," Heyes whispered.

Lom nodded in acknowledge, knowing if he said anything both of them would get sentimental. Not a good thing to do in a sheriff's office. Instead, he reached for his hat. He placed it carefully on his head.

"Let's go get you those tools." He slapped Heyes on the shoulder. "You can tell me all about the article as we walk."

"Article?" Heyes frowned.

Lom smiled rueful. "Yeah Heyes, the one by a certain Nial H Benshaye."

"Oh, THAT article!"

ASJASJASJASJ

Over at the livery the Kid was having a different experience. Walt Reilly had agreed to take the Kid on when Lom had asked but was suspicious about hiring a fella he hadn't met. His opinion didn't change when the Kid turned up.

"You won't be needing that," he said, pointing at the gun strapped to the Kid's leg. "Ain't no wild animals here. Take it off and put it over there. Then I'll show you what we do."

Reluctantly the Kid did as asked. He'd promised Heyes he'd give it a go and knew his partner wouldn't accept 'just turning up' as giving it a go. He had to find out what the job was all about and at least do a full day before he called time. The Kid had already decided that come Tuesday he would be unemployed and looking for work on his own terms.

He stood patiently as Walt explained in minute detail how to fork out used bedding, make up new bedding, fill water buckets, not too full and restock feed holders. Then there was the tack to take care of, polishing and repairing the leather and metal. Walt made the Kid take a turn at everything. Walt watched him carefully and stepped in time and time again. Even when he left the Kid alone to go off and deal with a customer, he still seemed to be everywhere. Nothing escaped his notice. He was a precise and exacting man. The Kid didn't know if he could work for him.

"Well how did I do?" the Kid asked at the end of the trial, resigned and hopeful of rejection.

Walt stroked his chin. "Well you showed great promise. Few more weeks and I'll show you how to deal with the customers." He turned away.

The Kid rolled his eyes. "Great!" he muttered.

Walt turned back almost smiling. "See you on Monday?"

The Kid nodded and reached wearily for his gun. For a trial he felt as though he'd put in a full day's work. He wasn't looking forward to Monday. Heyes would be at his new job so he'd be alone. The livery would be somewhere to go. Something to do. Company. Hmmm, he said he'd give it one full day. Perhaps it wouldn't too bad, once he'd learnt how to do things Walt's way. Monday it was.

"Yes, Mr Reilly. I'll see you on Monday."

ASJASJASJASJ

Neither had wanted to speak much during the days that followed. Instinctively they knew what they had to do and each settled to the tasks in hand. There was no need for words. Repairing the cabin took all their concentration. To their surprise, there was a certain satisfaction in fixing the place up. They found they wanted to do a good job. The manual work provided the perfect distraction from thinking about their future.

They fixed the veranda's missing planks and returned the hitching rail to a horizontal position. The weeds disappeared from round the house and they rediscovered an overgrown flowerbed. The Kid climbed onto the roof and inspected it for leaks. Inside, the floor was swept to within an inch of it's life. The remnants of the last occupant's meal was disposed of, the cooking utensils, pots and pans scrubbed and organised on a shelf. The table gave up its pretensions of being a ship and no longer swayed at the slightest touch. Spiders and other free-range bugs and critters summarily evicted.

In the bunkroom, they aired the two bunks. The Kid fashioned a washing line and the blankets and sheets washed and hung out to dry. Mattresses were turned and pillows plumped.

Once repaired, Heyes had several goes at positioning the furniture. To make the best use of space he told the Kid. However, the Kid thought it was more for aesthetic reasons, if he knew what aesthetic meant. He just put it where Heyes directed. Heyes had stood hands on hips, considering and twitching his nose as he studied the layout. The Kid had growled when he had to move it all again. Twice!

Heyes had even found a vase and put some flowers in it on the table.

"Really?" the Kid had questioned.

Heyes shrugged. "Sure. Makes the place looked cared for, Kid. This is our home now, Kid. I reckon we deserve to be comfortable in it."

All done, they reckoned it was good enough for the required stay of six months. Good enough for men used to riding the range and who hadn't had a place to call home since they were boys.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Heyes, you awake?"

"Yeah."

"What ya thinkin' about?"

There was a deep breath from the other bunk. "Tomorrow," Heyes forced out. It was Sunday night and tomorrow would be a momentous day in both their lives.

"How d'ya feel? 'Bout tomorrow?"

Heyes didn't answer for a moment and when he did, the answer surprised the Kid. "Kinda nervous."

The Kid looked across. The room was in darkness and he could only just make out the lump in the opposite bunk. He put his hand behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

"Yeah. Me too." He paused. "How d'ya think it will go?"

"Dunno. Have to wait an' see."

Silence. They lay in bed, contemplating what the next day would bring. Tomorrow they would start the jobs Lom had found for them. Neither was too sure, how they felt about it. Could they really settle for a routine existence after so long? Getting up each day at the same time; going to the same place each day; putting in a full day with little variety; coming home; going to bed ….

"Are ya looking forward to it?" the Kid asked.

Another deep sigh. "Dunno." Heyes paused. "I should. It's what we wanted. Right?"

"Yep," the Kid agreed.

"Are YOU looking forward to it?" Heyes asked the silence.

"What shovelin' sh…?

"Manure!" Heyes interrupted. "Language, Kid. Remember we're PG!"

"Even now we've got amnesty?"

"Especially now we've got amnesty. We're upright, law abiding citizens now. They don't cuss." Much, he added to himself.

In the dark, Heyes received the look.

"Still don't understand why Lom couldna got us both jobs in the Hardware Store," the Kid grumbled. "That looks like a lotta work for jus' one man."

"So you keep saying. Lom explained it to us Kid. It's so we're not always seen as a pair. Y'know we're more obvious together."

"I hate it when we split up. Bad things always happen."

"We're hardly splitting up! I'll be in the middle of town and you'll be on the edge of town. We'll see each other every morning and night. Here. In our home." Heyes flashed him a broad grin even though he knew the Kid couldn't see it.

"Suppose so."

Silence descended on Dun Outlawin' until Heyes broke it.

"Talking 'bout the amnesty, how d'you feel?"

"Kinda numb."

"Yeah," Heyes agreed.

"It's not like I'd imagined it to be."

"Nope. Bit of an anti-climax." A long beat. "Kid."

"Mmmm?"

"It'll be alright, y'know. Once it's sunk in properly and we get used to it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Heyes said, firmly. "We can do this." He paused. "How hard can it be?"

The Kid grunted and Heyes smiled as he heard his partner flump round to face the wall away from him. Heyes settled the other way to face his wall.

"'Night, Jed," he whispered.

In the quiet cabin, he must have said it louder than he thought.

"'Night, Han," came the reply.

Heyes grinned.

Neither had called the other by their childhood names in years. Perhaps tomorrow would put the intervening years to rest and they could resume their lives. The lives they should have had. Be the men they should have been. Tomorrow was the first day of the rest of their lives. There was a world of possibilities out there and some would be coming their way. It was a daunting but happy thought. Two officially reformed outlaws went off to sleep dreaming of tomorrow's hard work. They didn't mind one little bit.


End file.
